After 10 months of internet dating, about 30 first dates, a couple second dates, and a boyfriend for two whole months, the last place I expected to meet someone was on a week-long trip to the opposite coast.
It was 10:30 on a Friday night when we met at a friend of a friend's karaoke birthday party. He was drunk and high on coke. I was sober. He kept touching my leg. I let him. When the singing ended, he handed me his phone and asked me to enter my number.
"Do you know I live in Seattle?," I asked. "I'm just visiting my friend this week."
"What? When do you leave?," said drunk karaoke friend of a friend of a friend.
"In two days."
"Well, what do you have going on tonight and tomorrow?"
A couple hours later we'd moved the party to his house. He- even more drunk. Me- still sober. Between karaoke and getting separate rides to his place, we'd had about 5 minutes of conversation before he started to kiss me in the stairwell.
Then he stopped, took my hand, and led me past our friends to his bedroom.
"I'm not sure that this is a good idea," I posed, trying to be the sober voice of reason. "You're really drunk."
"Don't worry, I just want to make out..." Then he added, "at least."
We made-out-at-least that night. And we liked it so much that we made-out-at-least another three times in the next 36 hours before I got on my plane.
And at some point over that weekend, in between all the removing and reapplying of our clothes, he became sober. He was intelligent, sweet, fun, and an interesting conversationalist. Like me he had logged dozens of internet dates with limited success. Also like me, he valued new experiences and had been thinking about leaving New York for a different part of the country.
He took me to the airport, kissed me goodbye, and promised that he would see me again soon.
The next day I got a text message saying he would be moving to Seattle on July 12th or 13th. Of note, we have not had a fourth date.
It was 10:30 on a Friday night when we met at a friend of a friend's karaoke birthday party. He was drunk and high on coke. I was sober. He kept touching my leg. I let him. When the singing ended, he handed me his phone and asked me to enter my number.
"Do you know I live in Seattle?," I asked. "I'm just visiting my friend this week."
"What? When do you leave?," said drunk karaoke friend of a friend of a friend.
"In two days."
"Well, what do you have going on tonight and tomorrow?"
A couple hours later we'd moved the party to his house. He- even more drunk. Me- still sober. Between karaoke and getting separate rides to his place, we'd had about 5 minutes of conversation before he started to kiss me in the stairwell.
Then he stopped, took my hand, and led me past our friends to his bedroom.
"I'm not sure that this is a good idea," I posed, trying to be the sober voice of reason. "You're really drunk."
"Don't worry, I just want to make out..." Then he added, "at least."
We made-out-at-least that night. And we liked it so much that we made-out-at-least another three times in the next 36 hours before I got on my plane.
And at some point over that weekend, in between all the removing and reapplying of our clothes, he became sober. He was intelligent, sweet, fun, and an interesting conversationalist. Like me he had logged dozens of internet dates with limited success. Also like me, he valued new experiences and had been thinking about leaving New York for a different part of the country.
He took me to the airport, kissed me goodbye, and promised that he would see me again soon.
The next day I got a text message saying he would be moving to Seattle on July 12th or 13th. Of note, we have not had a fourth date.
